There are diamonds along the road.
Cast along the road. They smile
and acknowledge the day. The others,
they promised me, the silence of a sidewalk.
Even in the presence of a conversation,
when I got home. Always. This Sunday
I walk to Church alone. I have been there
and now I am somewhere else where time
repeats itself at 9:35 PM each evening.
Which is worse? The ending of another day?
Or the beginning of a new one? I promised you a wish,
and that wish came true. So why until now
have I wondered the same sidewalk alone?
Because the wish was yours not mine for you,
and it was always for someone else.
September 